Good Intentions
by uglychui
Summary: With Ellen's help and encouragement, Alec might just be able to overcome his greatest fear: fatherhood. Part 3 of my 'Ceasefire' series


"Come _on_ , Alec. You promised no AI work today."

Alec pulled wires out of a port and entwined them, then carefully re-inserted them back in. He screwed on a curved plate to cover the wiring and activated his omnitool, fingers flying every which way. After mere seconds, the metal orb started to glow, the energy surrounding it seeming to pulsate.

" _Alec_ ," she insisted. At her tone, his fingers paused mid-air and he spun around in his chair, meeting her annoyed glare. "You and your children are rarely home together. Get out there and spend time with them."

"And say what, exactly? Ellen, I haven't spoken to either of them since they left home to join the Alliance," he sighed. If he was being completely honest, he hadn't spoken to them even _before_ that. It wasn't that he didn't love his children; he just didn't know how to be a father. Ellen had always possessed the ability to make everyone around her love her— to make them laugh and smile and just be themselves. He, on the other hand, only possessed to power to push people away. More times than he'd like to admit, he'd wondered how he'd gotten so lucky as to have Ellen in his life. More times than he'd like to admit, he'd also wondered if she'd be better off with someone else. Someone else decidedly _not him_.

But he kept these traitorous thoughts to himself. His guarded personality had already pushed his children— his own flesh and blood— away. He couldn't bear it if Ellen left him, too.

Ellen placed a callused hand on his shoulder. "Now's your chance to change that."

His eyes fell to her feet, so small compared to his and yet somehow, they carried more strength than he ever could— a fact exemplified by his response.

"Not right now. Maybe later."

He didn't dare look up, fearing the look of disappointment he'd undoubtedly see on her face. He felt her fingers twitch before she withdrew her hand, his deep shame replacing the warmth she provided.

"Okay then," he heard her whisper. Her feet hesitated to move, as if she wanted to say something else, but eventually stepped out of his field of vision. The door hissed open, and the jovial voices of his children teasing each other filtered through— another reminder of what he was missing out on. He turned his back— like he always did— and continued tinkering with his project.

"You can't keep running from them." It appeared Ellen had found her voice.

His hands never stopped. "They're doing just fine without me. They don't need me." As if to prove his point, the twins in the background burst out in a fit of laughter.

She sighed in defeat and her footsteps receded, followed by the lonely, resounding hiss of the door shutting him out from his family. Like the hardened soldier he was, he filed away the swirling shame of his growing list of failures and did what he did best: he kept on working.

What may have been minutes or hours later— he didn't know, of course he didn't know— Thea barged into the room, breathing heavily and shaking.

"Dad! Mom— she just suddenly—!"

Alec rushed past her and out into the living room, where Scott hovered over her body on the couch.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Scott's head shot up and his eyes widened, as if he were surprised by Alec's presence. The elder's impatience got the better of him and he instinctively switched to soldier mode, forgetting that his children had just witnessed their mother collapsing and were overcome with shock.

" _Report, soldier_!"

To his surprise, Thea marched up to stand beside Scott and answered instead. "Our _mother_ suddenly lost consciousness in the middle of a conversation, _sir_ ," she snarled through gritted teeth. Scott pulled her arm in warning and she shoved him off without breaking eye contact. "Scott, we're taking Mom to Huerta. Or do we need your permission, _sir_?"

Rendered speechless by his daughter's hostility, he simply stared as Scott gathered Ellen in his arms and left. Thea lingered just a moment, glaring at him before following.

And that was the first time he'd spoken to his children in two years.

* * *

"There's no cure, Alec. It's terminal."

He clenched his fists. It would not end like this.

"Not on my watch."

"Alec…"

"No," he repeated. "I'm not losing you." He swallowed and his eyes fell to his fists. "Our children are not losing their mother."

If the Alliance would not help to save his wife, then he'd do it himself.

* * *

"I told Thea and Scott. They're not taking it well," she commented lightly, as if she were talking about the weather.

He chuckled humorlessly. "You just told them their favorite parent was diagnosed with a neuro-degenerative disease. I didn't think they'd be happy to hear that." He took her hands in his, cradling it as light as a feather, as if she would shatter into dust if he applied the slightest amount of pressure. "I… I'm not. Far from it, actually." Despite himself, a tear threatened to fall.

"Alec." She gripped his hands back with an iron clasp, as if to reel him back to her. "I'm still alive. Let's just focus on that, okay?" He nodded, wiping away his unshed tears. She chuckled affectionately. "I haven't seen you cry since the day I agreed to marry you."

He looked down, suddenly and uncharacteristically shy. "Of course, it was the happiest moment of my life." She brought her hand up to cradle his cheek, a shimmer in her eyes and a soft smile gracing her features.

"I wish the children could see you for who you really are." Alec blinked and cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to look at the floor. Her fingers nudged his chin back up and he met her eyes reluctantly. "Talk to them, sweetheart."

"I don't know how," he admitted. Her gaze softened at the fear that sprouted in his eyes.

"Well… 'practice makes perfect', as they've always said. Thea and Scott are visiting soon. You can practice then."

"I don't think they'll want to." At her raised eyebrows, he continued. "Ever since I was discharged, their careers…"

"They'll talk to you if you talk to them. But you have to try. They _need_ you to try."

He let out a shuddering breath. "Okay, I'll try," he decided out loud, if only to hear himself commit to it. "Please don't laugh, though, when I do. I can promise you right now, I'm going to make a fool of myself."

As he'd hoped, Ellen blessed him with her brilliant grin and playful snickering. "Oh, I've got my fingers crossed, love."

* * *

Alec's eyes would not stop looking down. He hated himself for being such a coward. What kind of parent couldn't bear to look his children in the eyes, let alone feel uncomfortable being in the same room?

"Only one rule for this visit: no talking about me. I'm fine." At the disbelieving look the twins shot at her, Ellen added, "And when I'm not, the pills help. Deal?"

"Okay," Thea conceded.

"Good. Let's talk about something else. Alec?"

His head jerked up at his name, panicked that Ellen would sell him out so soon. Couldn't she have given him more time to prepare?

"Uhhhh," his voice cracked pathetically. His eyes jumped around, trying to find an escape. He didn't miss Scott's crossed arms and Thea's eye roll, both challenging him to pretend to be a family man.

" _Really?_ " Ellen pushed.

He sputtered out the first thing that came to mind: "W-well, uhhh… you're both looking… taller." He cringed inwardly. _Who says that?_

Scott didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, Dad. That does tend to happen."

His severe lack of confidence dwindled further. "Right, right. I know. So, uhh…" His eyes wandered onto the table in between them, desperate for a topic. _Tech!_ he remembered. _They love tech!_

"I heard the Alliance has a new Mako in the works." _Please, please, please!_

He could have cried when he saw Scott's eyes widen. "Yeah, word is they can air-drop this one from a ship!"

And he _definitely_ cried when Thea chimed in. "I know! They're saying we might get one on our next expedition!"

His vision was getting blurry, but he paid it no mind. Not when he was finally having a civil conversation with his children. Not when he was finally able to see something other than hate and fear in their eyes. For the first time in who knows how many years— decades maybe— he was seeing childlike wonder and excitement in them. And damn if that didn't make him proud to be their father.

* * *

When the Remnant cloud blasted him and Thea off the platform and onto the unforgiving planet, he scrambled back up, searching for his daughter. And when he found her— the visor of her helmet so broken that even their omnitools couldn't fix it and her body instinctively breathing in the toxic fumes of the planet— he knew this was his last chance at redemption. No more hiding behind Ellen's love. No more hiding behind the name of Pathfinder.

It was time to be a father.


End file.
